


stories for the soul

by skylights



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Fluff, JB-007 - Freeform, Jedi!Q, M/M, No plot whatsoever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6154957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylights/pseuds/skylights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know–,” Q says for the sake of conversation after a few moments of drifting and trying to get used to the idea of being awake again, “–there used to be someone who smuggled stories out of the Core worlds when I was a boy. Things on holovids and datapads, that sort of thing.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	stories for the soul

**Author's Note:**

> Some tumblr ramblings that got out of hand and got long enough to deserve its own post...? Please expect nothing though, these two definitely deserve a much more eloquent and in-depth fic than whatever this is masquerading to be.

They call him Q, this strange leader of theirs, this general with the face of a boy and the eyes of a man who had been raised within the machinations of a war. It’s somewhat apt, considering how the old stories say that the Jedi had been the warmongers of the last age. Traitors and crooks down to the very last rotten core, dissidents and deviants who turned their face from the Empire only to seek shelter in their strange ways, their dark religion.

JB-007 thinks he knows better though, now. If there is a violence within Q, it’s only because love can be a fierce and terrible thing. Kindness, as 007 has learnt, does not mean a complete absence of anger.

“I can hear you thinking all the way from here,” Q says in the harsh quiet of the medbay and 007 wants to shout at him, tell him to lie down, be _still_. Instead, all 007 does is flatten his lips into a thin line of disapproval. Thinks, viciously and irrationally: _Well good, I hope you can hear this. I hope you know **exactly**  what I’m thinking right now, you stubborn bastard_.

Except Q just smiles from where he’s lying propped against the pillows, blinking sleep from his eyes.

“You know it’s just a turn of phrase, don’t you?” he chides drowsily. “Not that I don’t constantly wonder what’s knocking around that head of yours”

If Q wasn’t so drugged, he might have lifted a hand to lay on 007′s arm, but all 007 feels instead is a slight nudge against his skin, some unseen pressure that alights along his knuckles and leaves again in the next breath.

Too brief. Far too short. Q usually has better control than this.

“I know. The Force doesn’t work that way,” 007 parrots obediently once he’s swallowed down the worry in his throat and there’s not more than a hint of pique to the words. 

Q had tried to explain it to him, once, how the Force is within all things, _is_ all things, in some sense, but here’s the thing: 007 was never trained for the metaphysical. Blasters and battlefield tactics, yes, even evasions and the occasional evacuation if the situation ever becomes dire enough, but this? These sights and wonders, this _living_  thing? 007 will take a pass and gladly at that, thank you very much. If the Force isn’t out to get him and if Q is happy enough with this particular bag of tricks, 007 isn’t going to complain much.

“You know–,” Q says for the sake of conversation after a few moments of drifting and trying to get used to the idea of being awake again, “–there used to be someone who smuggled stories out of the Core worlds when I was a boy. Things on holovids and datapads, that sort of thing.”

“They didn’t have them where you were?”

“Not on that particular scale, no.” Q’s lips quirk, as if there’s a touch of humour to the memory he’s thinking of. “Not to belittle the efforts of the artists in the Outer Rim, but it’s not like anyone had credits to spare for anything nearing a big-budget production out there. If you wanted a good holodrama, it had to be the Coruscant stuff, through and through.”

He pauses for a moment to study the look on 007′s face. Remembering belatedly, perhaps, that troopers have little time or even access to such frivolities, but it’s not like 007 minds. Can’t miss what you can’t have, anyways, and 007 will sooner eat his own blaster rather than make Q feel as if something like this isn’t worth sharing. 

“I take that it was worth it then, to have someone smuggle this out?” he prompts. 007 knows he still isn’t too good at this whole emotion-to-words-and-actions thing but _sith_ , does he try. “It must have been revealing, to find out what the Core considered entertainment.”

Q almost looks embarrassed when he speaks next, but he does speak and that’s what matters. “It _was_  good to see what was out there," he admits. "I mean, you’d laugh to think of it now and call us idiots for ever being this way, but back then, we looked forward to those little scraps so much, the shipments that came in caused more fights than those for actual supplies.”

“Bacta for the body, stories for the soul?”

This earns 007 a short, surprised huff of laughter, the line obviously something that Q recognises.

“Did M’on tell you that? She used to say it all the time when we were younger, if only to make us feel less silly for wanting these things so badly.”

“She said it to 003, if it counts. He always wanted to know what she was doing, hunched over her holopad for hours during downtime, so he finally went to find out.”

Q hums at this tidbit of information, appreciative. “She likes the holodramas, that one. Myself, it was more of the ‘movies. Just the right length to take you away for a while and then make sure you didn’t have too much trouble coming back, after.”

007 might not know a holomovie even if it came to bite him in the face, but what he _does_  know is how it used to feel like, that comfort of being able to escape for a while for a moment or two, never mind how each moment had existed only in his head. It used to be the idea of a better time, perhaps, or some better place with better people. These days though, all 007 has to do is wake up in the morning and somehow, he’s there. This is the better world that he’s living in.

“Did you have a favourite?” he asks after a beat, Q in the midst of mulling on some old memory and 007 loathe to feel the silence grow any more between them.

Q tilts his head at the question, distinctly birdlike in the way his considers 007. Having a Rishii for a Master often does that to a person, or so he’s told 007 whenever he catches the other man looking.

“Well,” comes the thoughtful reply. “There was this particular one. An old series of movies, actually. Completely over-the-top and nothing like real life at all, but Force, that’s why I loved them, I suppose. It’s like people went completely wild during those first few years of the New Republic, making things that the Empire had banned.”

“Jedi?”

The sound that Q makes could have been a laugh, if not for the lack of humour in it. “No, not that far, I’m afraid. One day, perhaps, when we’re not just bedtime stories for younglings, but back then, it was about the Alliance. Rebel spies, 007, and not even the kind that were used for imperial propaganda. Can you even believe that?”

007 thinks he could, but that doesn’t feel like the right response. What is it that Dameron always goes on about? Coyness? Flirtation? 007 doesn’t know the first thing about these things, but he’s a quick study if anything, so:

“I think you’ll have to show me one if you want me to,” he tries and Q does laugh this time, startled yet _genuine_. 

“Was that a blatant attempt at seducing your commanding officer, 007?”

007 can feel a grin of his own starting to pull the corners of his mouth up, mirroring the one that Q is currently wearing.

“Perhaps, sir.”

“Oh it’s _sir_  now, is it?”

There’s a touch whispering across his skin again, Q pressing lightly against the inside of his wrist before 007 gives in, wanting actual warmth instead of this pale replacement.

“Such an astounding lack of propriety,” Q sighs and squeezes 007′s hand in his. “Where on earth did you learn all of this from, I wonder?”

“Could be holovids, sir.”

“Really now. I think some reeducation might be in order then, 007, because it sounds like you’ve been taking instructions from Dameron again and we simply can’t have that.”

The holopad that Q floats towards them bumps against 007′s shoulder, a clear sign that he should pluck it out of the air.

“May I suggest that you start with the one ostensibly named _You Only Live Twice_ , if only for the ridiculous dogfights that happen out in the black. Force knows you already pilot that way half the time.”

007 has to remove his hand from Q’s to tap the pad awake, but given the contented yawn that Q lets out, it’s not something he minds badly.

“Wake me up when you’re done, will you? Its been a while since I’ve watched _Goldfinger_  and I’d prefer to be awake when you get to that one.” 

He already has his eyes closed when 007 looks up, trusting 007 to still be there when he wakes, and even if they’re battle-born, war-weary, times like this just make 007 think with a vicious joy: this really is the better world. 

**Author's Note:**

> So yes I am very much Star Wars trash right now and have been toying with the idea of Altisian Jedi!Q + Stormtrooper!JB-007 for a while ;___; One day, perhaps? The headcanon here is that 007 ends up watching all the films and decides that Bond isn't that bad of a name...or something. Also, let's just assume an AU where the First Order has started to really clash on a large scale with the Alliance and the Altisian Jedi have kindly started showing up again to provide ~assistance~. 
> 
> (Lbr though I just adore the idea of Jedi generals during the Clone Wars era and badly want Q to have some sort of rank.) 
> 
> Apologies if I'm mangling things something awful, this was an impromptu 2:30am post.


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